


Tender Situation

by meat



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Drugged Sex, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Porn with Feelings, Slurs, Somnophilia, Voyeurism, now with plot!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7196927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meat/pseuds/meat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You don't know what you do to me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. waste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I wanted to add a note here. I'm probably not going to be able to update this for awhile. I'm going through treatment for cancer and other health issues, and I'm sorry that I've left this on a cliffhanger. It is NOT abandoned, I promise.

“You don’t know what you do to me.”

The hands holding Optimus in place were shaking. Sentinel was more than capable- more than willing- to show some form of gentleness to his fellow Prime. But it wasn’t what he wanted, now; it wasn’t what either of them wanted. Heat radiated off of both their frames as Sentinel increased his pace.

“I’m doing you a favor, taking you like this,” Sentinel grunted. “I could have done this any time. No one would believe you.” There was something left unspoken between them, both because Optimus was too far gone to truly understand, and because Sentinel feared what would happen if it was said. _No one would believe you, because the only person you could tell is watching._

Ultra Magnus didn’t lift his gaze from the desperate merging of his Primes’ forms. The only part of him that moved was his hand, and it did so with rhythm, with clear purpose. Nothing the Magnus ever did could be considered ‘with abandon’, but this came close. Sentinel didn’t look. Just knowing that he was there, getting off watching him fuck Optimus was more than enough.

Sentinel lifted one of his hands to stroke at Optimus’s face. There was no response- the other Prime’s optics didn’t even move. The drugged fugue visible in them as they stared blankly forwards was enough to send a twitch of guilt through Sentinel. He gripped one of Optimus’s audials hard enough to dent.

“You’re a whore. You like this.” Sentinel didn’t relent, twisting his hand. Metal creaked and, reluctantly, bent. Optimus made a half-aborted noise of pain that seemed to die in his throat.

“Stop.”

Sentinel froze, preparing to turn towards the Magnus and apologize- “Don’t look at me. Keep moving,” Sentinel released the broken audial, trying to ignore the whimper that left Optimus as Sentinel’s hands resettled on his waist. He set back into a steady pace, though slightly slower than before. “Insult him.”

He didn’t look at the Magnus. He shouldn’t close his eyes- he knew that. Ultra Magnus liked it when he made eye contact. Sentinel focused on Optimus’s optics, still confusedly staring at nothing. Sentinel still wasn’t sure of how Ultra Magnus had managed to get him like this, and he wasn’t about to ask questions. For now, Sentinel tried to lose himself in sensation, looking into the pale blue glass that so greatly contrasted his flushed face.

“You’re- you’re nothing,” A sharp thrust punctuated his words. “You’re a fucktoy, that’s all you are. You belong like this. B-belong,” Sentinel could feel his charge rising. “Like this, u-under me. You could…never be a better leader t-than- than you are a doll to be used.”

Sentinel could hear the Magnus’s ventilations spike in the corner of the room- he didn’t need to look to see that he was close, too. Sentinel panted. Optimus’s valve was loose, not torn yet definitely not so from preparation. Ultra Magnus had encouraged Sentinel to take him without thinking of the consequences- _“let this be a time to indulge for the both of us”_ \- which only left the older Prime to guess that this wasn’t the first time Optimus had been taken under the influence. He didn’t want to think about how many times the Magnus had penetrated him. Optimus was so loose, he was so _ruined_ , and-

“You’re my bitch. I-if you were awake, I’d make you thank me,” Sentinel could feel himself flagging. His charge was beginning to dwindle, and it was all he could do to grasp the sensation like his life depended on it. “Y-you should be thanking me, for even fucking looking at you. You’re so lucky you m-make- make my spike feel good.”

Sentinel was still flagging. He was afraid to pull all of the way out- Primus knows what Ultra Magnus would have done if he knew Sentinel wasn’t enjoying this. He’d entrusted Sentinel with this, this was was supposed to help them bond. It was a testament to how much more Sentinel was valued than Optimus. That was supposed to mean something. By accepting the offer to use Optimus’s body, he was supposed to show that he could be trusted with anything- even something that was supposed to belong only to Ultra Magnus. In the end, it was frustration rather than desperation that motivated Sentinel to take one final measure in saving his reputation.

As if Optimus had been able to make much noise before, he was silenced by the hands that shut around his throat. Sentinel shuttered his optics. He didn’t want to see, he didn’t need to see, he couldn’t see. Optimus’s hand desperately clinging to him with all the strength he could muster just drove Sentinel on further. He fucked Optimus without rhyme or reason, jagged and short thrusts focused moreso on friction than on penetrating deeply.

Sentinel felt his charge rise and climax without consequence. He kept moving until he could do nothing but collapse onto Optimus, and it was only then that he released him. Sentinel was reluctant to open his optics, near fearful of what he’d see.

The pink flush had left Optimus. A pale, energon-deprived grey tainted his face, spread across his features and finally framing out-of-focus optics. His mouth was opened as though he’d attempted to reason with his assailant. The crackling of heat and energy that radiated from nearby told Sentinel exactly what he needed to hear- he’d done well.

Optimus’s spike was still standing. Sentinel knew that it was an after-product of the stimulation, but now, the pangs of guilt he had felt earlier nearly floored him. Sentinel moved his hands out of the fresh dents in the smaller Prime’s hips. They both layed in silence, aside from the desperate venting shared between them. It was in slow, jerking movements that Sentinel grasped Optimus’s face, and in a perhaps too confident one that he claimed the other’s open mouth.

Sentinel didn’t know how long he remained like that, or how long he actually spent kissing Optimus rather than trying to smooth his glossa into proper position. He didn’t break eye contact throughout the whole action. Finally, satisfied, Sentinel pulled away and off of Optimus to clean himself up.

“Next time, Prime, try to _use_ him instead of _make love to him._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Make a move, man, state your case_   
>  _Taste the waste, man, taste the waste_   
>  _What is your place in my glorification?_   
>  _Yeah, this is really a tender situation_


	2. baby bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And you asked her how long it's been_   
>  _"A year" she said and you shook your head_   
>  _Said "I'm surprised it's gone on that long"_

"How long has it been?"

The red bot spoke in a hushed tone. His friend, speaking behind her hand, responded in kind:

"A year, at least. Closer to two."

The red bot let out a hum. A noise of pity.

"I had high hopes for him. Really high hopes."

"We all did."

"Yeah, but..."

He trailed off. One of the drones that routinely patrolled the streets had turned out in front of the pair, effectively ending their conversation.

"Can't believe it's been a year of that."

* * *

Thick, heavy oil-rain panged down on the city beneath him, beneath the clouds that encircled the massive building he called home. Ultra Magnus had never wanted this degree of accommodation, but who was he to judge Sentinel, now? Just as much of a nobody as anyone else down there. Just as much of a nobody as anyone but the  _new_ Magnus.

In the year since Ultra Magnus's death, Sentinel Magnus had had to rebuild. He was the first one that people came to for Cybertron. He was the first to respond, and the was the one to plot out the response. He was the decisionmaker, and he was the one to figure out how exactly that decision came into effect. Leadership as a concept had shaped him just as much as his leadership had shaped Cybertron. Cybertron's economy was in a slump, and approval ratings had dropped and dropped until he'd finally scrapped the agency that measured them. Extra funds for the planet were allocated first-and-foremost from places that spoke out against him, and then from there, they came from anyone that he just plain didn't like. Leadership had shaped him, but maybe not for the better.

The buzzer between his home office and the receptionist outside beeped. Sentinel Magnus clicked to answer it.

"The guards have brought up O-"

Sentinel took his hand off of the button, cutting off his receptionist. A power move, he told himself. He clicked the button once again, and his receptionist was silent.

"Send them in, but make it clear that they need go as soon as he's in here. I mean it."

"Yes, sir."

The buzzer beeped offline once again, and Sentinel folded his hands in his lap. He awaited the  _clat_ of the door sliding into the wall, the thudding of big, stompy feet as they drudged in a prisoner. This wasn't exactly a prisoner, but...Sentinel stopped himself before he reached the conclusion of 'but everyone on Cybertron felt like a prisoner, these days'.

A bolt of brilliantly-colored lightening outside masked the actual entry of the guards, but it didn't mask them leaving. Even in the burst of bright, fantastic light through the room, Sentinel could clearly see from the corner of his eye just who they had left there, and he knew immediately that they had grabbed the right target. Optimus was silent, leaving Sentinel to speak. A power move. A power move, but on whose part?

"So," Sentinel stood up. "Let's talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _For words I am at a loss_   
>  _Baby, Baby, Baby Bitch_   
>  _I'm better now please fuck off_
> 
>  
> 
> (this is a lot shorter than i would have liked, but i'm having a lot of medical problems right now and can't write for as long. i hope to make the third- and final- chapter a lot longer.)


End file.
